Love is Never Easy
by Laura's Fantasia
Summary: Just because something is inevitable, that doesn't make it easy. Events from Doyle's POV revolving around his relationship with Nadia.
1. Falling Apart

**27/6/07: More editing. Nadia's sisters' names changed to Arabic ones (MadisonAisha, ImogenRana) to make it more realistic.**

**23/6/07: Some editing done to improve the general reading flow of this chapter.**

**This is the first in a series of short ficlets I'm planning to do describing different events in Doyle's and Nadia's (extremely complicated) relationship. Every chapter will be based on a few lines from a song by The Fray in their album, 'how to save a life'. I know this isn't as good as some of the other Doyle/Nadia fics out there, but I wanted to make my own contribution. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Do you own 24? No, or the movie wouldn't be on hold. ****Have you ever owned 24? No, or Tony and Michelle wouldn't have died and Doyle wouldn't have been blinded. Will you**** own 24 in the near future? Unless you see some dramatic changes in the next season (aka Tony, Michelle, Doyle and a hell of a lot of other character return, alive and uninjured), you can safely assume I have been unsuccessful in blackmailing Fox, the true owners of 24.**

**I also don't own the quoted lyrics by The Fray.**

Falling apart

"_Take a breath, just take a seat, you're _

_falling apart and tearing at the seams"_ - Heaven Forbid

* * *

I could sense her standing there. She'd been standing in the doorway for a little over five minutes when I finally decided to say something. 

"You going to stand there all day or come in?"

There was a slight intake of breath at my words – she probably thought I was asleep; it's hard for her to tell with these bandages over my eyes – then movement. Someone approached the hospital bed I was lying on.

"Who is it?" I asked, despite already having an idea.

"It's Nadia. I – I came to see how you were feeling." She finished the last sentence in a rush, obviously nervous.

"Did you get Josh back?"

"Yes, Jack and Bill rescued him. The component was destroyed and we have Cheng in custody."

I smiled slightly. "In that case, I'm feeling a lot better than I did five minutes ago. None of these people –" he waved an arm in the general direction of the door, where he knew hospital staff would be passing "– know anything about a crazy Chinese man who's kidnapped a boy to get a Russian piece of technology. They're all still in shock from the nuclear bomb."

I heard Nadia sigh softly. "I'd almost forgotten, with everything else going on." She sat down at the end of the bed. "After everything we've been through today, it still didn't help all those poor people who are dead or dying because of that. How are we supposed to do our jobs? Defeat one terrorist and three more surface. What's the point?"

I felt sudden concern (which surprised me, considering that earlier that day I'd firmly believed that this woman was working with terrorists) and sat up.

"The point is that we're saving innocent lives! At least, you are. After today, I doubt I'll ever be able to work at CTU again." I didn't want to draw attention to my new disability, but if it helped draw her out of self-pity, then I was willing to.

Unfortunately, it backfired.

"I'm sorry, Mike. I should've listened to you and Jack. Even Bill and Chloe thought what we were doing was wrong."

"You were following orders."

"So were you! My orders! And now look what's happened. I don't know if I can do this anymore. First Curtis, then the bomb, and Milo, now you!"

Instinctively, I pulled her close. She allowed the mask she'd been holding up all day to fall, and sobs started to wrack her petite frame. Suddenly, all that mattered to me was holding her close; stopping her tears; making her feel safe. It reminded me of once, when I was around 15, and my step-brother had been killed in a car-crash. Instead of focussing on my own feelings, which would have been disastrous (even then, anger was the emotion I was best at), I'd concentrated instead on comforting my sister, who was 13 at the time and had adored our brother. Now, despite being married with a wonderful, 3-year-old daughter, I'm still the first person she calls when she's in trouble.

I let my thoughts wander around anything not related to the last 24 hours as I comforted Nadia, much as I had comforted my little sister just over twenty years ago.

Eventually she quietened, sniffling into my now rather damp shirt. I automatically murmured into her ear, trying to calm her down more.

"Sorry," she muttered self-consciously, drawing back.

Regretfully, I released her.

"Feeling better?" If I could still see, I'd have been examining her critically at this point, looking for any sign that she was going to fall apart again. As it was, I had to make do with asking.

"I'm ok," she replied. She snorted humourlessly under her breath. "So much for coming to see how you are."

I felt her weight leave the bed as she stood, presumably to leave.

"Wait!"

She said nothing, but I couldn't sense her moving away.

"Can you… stay… and talk… for a while?…Please?" I asked awkwardly. I wasn't used to all this emotional business, but I'd always been taught to follow my gut instinct. At this point in time, my gut was screaming at me to make her stay. There was a pause.

"Of course." I heard the scrape of a chair across the floor as she pulled it closer to the bed and sat down. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Anything. Uh… normal things. Family, school. Stuff like that. Have you got any siblings?"

"Yes, actually. Two sisters. Aisha's three years younger; she's on maternity leave at the moment. And Rana's a nurse, she's a year older than Aisha. They used to team up against me when we were little. What about you?"

"Little sister called Katie, two years younger. Used to be a lawyer, but looks after her daughter full time now. I had a step-brother too, called Dave, courtesy of my father's remarriage. Six years older, and annoyed the hell out of me. Katie loved him." I couldn't quite believe I was discussing this with Nadia Yassir, of all people. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. "He died in a car crash when he was twenty-one."

"Mike, I'm so sorry."

"It was years ago. Can we talk about something else, please? I didn't mean to get onto such a depressing topic."

We must have been talking for nearly an hour, our differences temporarily forgotten, when Nadia started yawning and noticed the time.

"Mike, do you mind if I go now?" she asked during a natural lull in the conversation. "Only, it's 9 am, and I haven't had any sleep in 24 hours."

I could have hit myself for forgetting. At least I'd had a few hours of rest, and about ten minutes of unconsciousness when the pain got to be too much.

"Yes, I'm sorry, you should've said something."

"It's fine." She stood up. "Thank you… for earlier, you know?"

"Thank you for staying to talk," I replied genuinely. "See you again sometime?"

"It might be a while, with all the paperwork that'll need to be done at CTU, But I hope so."

I listened as her footsteps faded, then settled down, content, and tried to get some more sleep myself.

* * *

**Next time: Doyle pushes Nadia away in her attempts to help him.**

**No guarantees on when the afore-mentioned next chapter will be up, but I'm on holiday now after my GCSEs (yay!), so it should be fairly soon.**

**Please review!**


	2. Leave

**Thank you to chipsnopotatoes, Tigerlily Brown and Cherazz22784 for your very kind reviews! They certainly inspired me to post the next chapter quickly! I think this is the fastest I've ever updated!**

**Disclaimer: See chapter 1**

Leave

"_There's really no way to reach me_

'_Cause I'm already gone"_ – Vienna

* * *

Over the course of the next week, my mood gradually worsened as I began to absorb what an impact losing my sight was going to have on my life. Every time one of the nurses had to do something for me, I grew more irritable. 

I knew my sister was in Mexico, and I didn't want to spoil her holiday by explaining to her what had happened. She'd catch the first flight back, despite having saved up for this trip for the last two years, so telling her could wait. As for my parents, not only did they live on the other side of the USA, but also, if you put them in the same room, even to visit their injured son, the shouting would deafen you. I knew I couldn't deal with that as well as being blind, and the result of all this was that I ended up with no visitors. Jack was still missing and Nadia hadn't returned.

I passed my time listening to casualty lists on the news. By the time Nadia did return, I was in an extremely foul mood. Instead of being deafened by my parents, I ended up being deafened by Nadia and myself.

"Mike? It's Nadia?"

"Yes?" I replied shortly, not feeling like conversing.

"Um…" She sounded nervous, probably in relation to me harsh tone. "How are you doing?"

"How do you think I'm doing?" I snapped back at her. "I'm blind; I can't see a bloody thing. Why are you here anyway? Come to hand me my compensation for having to live in the dark the rest of my life?"

Silence. "I… I wanted to come. To see if you needed to… to talk… or anything. I guess not, so… I'll just… go now?"

I reached for the TV remote that I knew was somewhere on the table next to me as she hesitantly turned to leave, and heard something clatter to the floor as my fingers brushed against it."

"Crap!" I fumbled around for it, continuing to curse under my breath.

After a few moments, someone pushed the remote into my hand.

"There you go." It was Nadia's voice.

"I don't need your help!" I burst out, frustrated beyond belief. "I don't _want_ your help!"

"Calm down, Mike. It was just –"

"I don't care! And I won't calm down! Doing what you told me to do is what got me here in the first place!"

Even then, I knew what I was saying to her was unfair, completely contradicting what I had told in her last visit. I could almost envision the hurt on her face, although at the time I didn't care. Then something happened that surprised me – her hurt turned to anger, just as my frustration had a few seconds earlier.

"I'm trying to help you, Mike, trying to be your friend! I don't have to be here, but I came because you asked me to! I thought, maybe he isn't as heartless as his file makes him out to be. Maybe he isn't an insensitive, ungrateful racist."

"We've been through this, Nadia," I interrupted in a clearly irritated voice. "I was doing my job."

"That's what I was trying to do; a job that was thrown on me without any training, any warning!" She sounded close to tears now. "Don't you think that if I could do something, anything, to make it as if that day never happened, I would do it? You can't blame me any more than I'm already blaming myself."

"Just leave."

I could feel her glaring daggers at me, before she stormed out, leaving me feeling even worse than I had before.

"Stupid woman," I muttered, still needing to direct my anger at someone.

"Is everything alright, Mr Doyle?" one of the many nurses asked from the direction Nadia had entered, and very recently left. "I could have sworn I heard shouting."

"Unless you've found an instantaneous, complete cure to having something blow up in your face, then no."

"Well, your doctor's ready to see you to discuss the various treatments available," she replied, not in the least put off by my sullen reaction.

I nodded, not allowing my hopes to rise in the slightest.

"I'll send him up."

She left, leaving me to wonder how many more people would try to reach out to this lost cause.

* * *

**Next time: More arguments before a risky operation.**

**I know this is a shorter chapter, but it just seemed to end very quickly and easily. Thank you again for the reviews I already have, but more would be nice! Chapter 3 is in the process of being written.**


	3. Not Getting Along

**Yay! Another chapter is up! Thanks again to all my reviewers, you make my day! I don't know whether they will feature at all in this story, but Nadia's sisters (mentioned in chapter 1) now have new arabic names, to make it more realistic. Madison is Aisha and Imogen is Rana. I didn't actually realise that 'Nadia' was an arabic name (to be fair, it can be used as an english name too). **

**I noticed that most of the Nadia/Doyle fics were from Nadia's POV or joint POV, which is partly why I decided to do this from Doyle's POV. There is another reason, but you won't discover that until the very last chapter. However, if occasionaly I do slip into 3rd person, please point it out in a review so I can rectify this.**

**Anyway, sorry about the rambling, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

(Not) Getting Along

"_I wish you were a stranger I could disengage_

_Say that we agree and then never change_

_Soften a bit until we all just get along"_ – Over My Head (Cable Car)

* * *

Another two weeks had passed, and it was the day of the operation. The bandages had been taken off the week before, and I could discern between light and dark (although bright light still hurt my eyes). I didn't understand the specifics of the surgery being offered to me, but I did know that there was a 65 percent chance of some improvement, which was the only part I cared about. Unfortunately, there was also a 25 percent chance of my sight staying the same, or, even worse, a 10 percent chance of it worsening. I didn't like thinking about those last two statistics. 

Katie, my sister, was also returning in a few days, so overall I was in better spirits. That was, until Nadia walked through the door.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded to know.

I looked up from my daydreaming, surprised, focussing on the dark figure standing in the doorway that had to be her.

"What are you talking about?"

She stalked forward angrily. "The operation! The one with a 35 chance of making no improvement! The one that's fairly new and could go wrong! The one that could make you permanently, and completely, blind!" she informed me frantically.

I scowled upon realising that she was trying to convince me not to go ahead with it.

"There's also a 65 chance of improvement."

"So you're willing to risk being blind for the rest of your life for a just over half chance of getting slightly better?"

"Yes."

"_Why?_ Surely you could wait until there's a safer operation, with better chances?"

"NO! I can't wait any more! You don't have any idea how lonely it is like this, how frustrating it is having to have other people do everything for you! Feeling like an invalid! If I have to live like this any longer I'll go crazy!"

"Well, what are you going to do if it fails? If you do have to live like this for the rest of your life?"

She'd just asked the question I'd been avoiding asking myself; the question I had no answer to.

"At least I'll have tried." It wasn't really a proper answer.

"Mr Doyle?" a female voice said. I turned to see another dark figure at the door – probably a nurse, judging by the way that she'd addressed me.

"What?" I snapped.

"We're ready to prep you for surgery."

I turned my attention back to Nadia.

"We're done here."

"But – "

"No more arguments! I've made up my mind."

She left without saying another word.

* * *

They were administering me with an anaesthetic, and I couldn't stop thinking about what Nadia had said. Deep down, I knew that she was right – I was being reckless and impatient. Even my doctor had advised me against this route, but I ignored him and plunged ahead. I also knew that Nadia was worried, and trying to look out for me, despite our many differences and arguments. That knowledge made me feel even guiltier than I already did for sending her away – twice. 

I wondered how she had known about the operation. I hadn't discussed it with anyone but the hospital staff, leading me to assume that she must have hacked into my medical record to see how I was doing (since she had probably – correctly – realised that I wasn't going to tell her myself). With others, I might have been angry, but when I knew she had only done it because she must have been worried about me, even I couldn't be cross.

Neither of us could seem to agree on anything. Frustrated at my situation, I concentrated my anger at her. Hurt at my reaction, she concentrated her anger at me. It was a vicious circle; however cliché that phrase may be. I wished that we could just get along, like normal people did.

Arguments were a commonplace occurrence for me. I argued with my parents for arguing with each other; with my colleagues whenever they did something wrong or foolish; with my bosses whenever _I_ did anything wrong or foolish; and finally with Nadia over, it seemed, anything and everything.

Over the years, I'd managed to create a psychological barrier so that these arguments didn't affect me. They were simply a way to release anger in a way that no one was physically hurt (even if the opposing side ended up being hurt mentally, as frequently happened). However, with Nadia it was different for some reason. I felt bad for arguing with her in the first place. I just didn't understand why I was so distressed about the whole situation with her.

As I felt my consciousness fading, I made a spur of the moment decision. Whether the operation succeeded, failed or made no difference whatsoever, as soon as possible I would apologise for the way I'd acted. Perhaps that would ease my guilty conscience.

* * *

**Next time: Doyle tries to bring up the courage to call Nadia and apologise.**

**Again, this is quite a short chapter, but I can tell you already that the next one will be longer. I'm halfway through and it's already three pages, compared to the two and half pages of this one (when handwritten). **

**Review please! It inspires me to post the next chapter more quickly!**


	4. Bitterness

**Well, I finally got around to posting this next chapter. I've been very busy this week - starting work, school prom, music concert, watching season 4 of 24... Plus my dad's been home, so my computer time has been limited. However, I have managed to type this up relatively quickly, although it hasn't been edited very thoroughly - let me know if you see any major mistakes. This is my favourite song by the Fray, and I could have written quite a few fics from it, but this is what I came up with.**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine :o(**

Bitterness

"_Where did I go wrong_

_I lost a friend somewhere_

_Along in the bitterness"_ – How to save a life

* * *

I was lying in a hospital bed again, my eyes covered with new bandages and holding a phone in one hand. It was almost a week after the operation, and while the doctors couldn't be completely sure, they were optimistic that everything had gone as planned. 

I was contemplating calling Nadia to apologise, just as I had promised myself I would. I knew that Mike Doyle never broke his promises, but drawing up the courage to keep this particular one was proving difficult. So instead of plunging ahead, as was my usual course of action, I was weighing up the pros and cons of calling her, while trying to ignore the niggling suspicion that she wouldn't want anything to do with me after our last two encounters.

It was very unlike me to actually have to focus on drawing up courage – normally, it was there in an instant, without me having to ask twice. Then again, all of my other circuitry went haywire wherever Nadia was concerned for some reason, so why not add courage to the list?

"Mike?" someone said from the doorway.

I recognised the voice immediately and looked up, smiling broadly.

"Come in! Did you bring Jack with you this time?"

"Sorry, I left her with Liam. I figured you'd rather have a civil conversation with me than argue with him, and I had to give him some reason to stay at home or he'd have felt guilty."

"I don't know why you worry about his feelings, Katie," I grumbled as she pulled up a chair. "You could do far better than Liam Watkins. And now he's keeping Jack away from me!"

Jack, or Jacqueline, Watkins was the three-year-old daughter of Katie and Liam. Her parents had quickly realised that Jacqueline was a very difficult name for her to pronounce, and later spell, hence the shortening of it to Jack.

"Mike, you're my older brother. You're _supposed _to think I can so better. Which means there's no way in hell that I'm listening to a word you say on the matter of my husband. Actually, the only reason I'm listening to a word you say about _anything _is out of sympathy. You should have told me what happened straight away!"

"It would have ruined your holiday."

"I have a right to know if someone tries to blow up my brother!"

Despite being the younger sibling, Katie had become increasingly commanding since Jack was born, often bossing me about in a motherly fashion.

I suddenly realised that the phone was still in my hand and went to put it away, fumbling for the 'off' switch.

"Let me do it," Katie said in an exasperated manner. The only reason she could get away with it was because I knew that my 'condition' wasn't the cause of her tone; she always spoke to my like that.

"Nadia Yassir," she read from the phone screen. Luckily, Nadia was the first person with a name beginning with N in my contacts, so it had been relatively easy to find her number, before my courage gave up on me. "You shouldn't have your phone on in a hospital anyway, but who's Nadia?"

I groaned inwardly. There would be no end of questions now.

"Is she someone I should know? Someone I should dislike, just like you dislike Liam?"

"She's just a colleague, Katie."

"And yet when I came in, you were scowling at her name on the phone as if deciding whether or not to call her, like it was the be-all and end-all."

I cursed the perceptiveness (as I often did), that had served her so well as a prosecutor.

"I was deciding whether to apologise about something I said."

"Which was…?" Katie prompted.

I paused before replying. "Implying that it was her fault I'm here and basically telling her to get lost when she tried to help me." Now I was in trouble.

"You ungrateful bastard!"

"I've been told."

"Why did you imply it was her fault?"

"She was the one who ordered me into the field where I was hurt."

"Mike, you're a field agent! What else was she supposed to do?"

Katie had a habit of siding with whoever was my current arguing-partner.

"I dunno. I was kind of in a bad mood at the time. That's why I want to apologise now."

I could feel her scrutinising me and wondered what was coming next.

"You like her," I was told. The implication was clear.

"What? No I don't! She's a friend – if I say sorry. A colleague who hates me if I don't," I added slightly downheartedly.

"Wow. You really like her."

"Katie, stop it! I've only known her for a few weeks!"

"I remember when Sarah moved in next door. She had you wrapped around her little finger in a matter of days."

I groaned, aloud this time, as I also remembered my recurring childhood crush. Two years older than me, and with almost as many boyfriends as I had arguments in a month, I had followed Sarah Fallows around like a devoted puppy until her mother caught me staring through her window. Katie had teased me mercilessly for weeks after that incident.

"I was a kid! I didn't have any judgement skills back then!"

"Well, apparently they haven't improved much if you're accusing this Nadia of blinding you."

I scowled, not trusting myself to say anything.

"Okay, how about this? I'll take down Nadia's number and phone her, since you're obviously having issues with your manly courage, to tell her you want to talk." Katie also took charge a lot more since she became a mother. "And don't worry, I won't tell that you like her."

"I don't – " I started, then sighed. What was the point? At least I could apologise now. I regretted the short period of acting bitter towards everyone I came across, even more so now that there was a good chance of recovering my sight.

* * *

"Agent Doyle?" 

Her familiar voice sent shivers down my spine, as I noticed at the same time I was no longer 'Mike'. Although not really surprising, this didn't have any help in increasing my confidence. My mouth was dry as I tried to remember the mini-speech I had planned out in my spare time. It had disappeared from my mind completely. Time to make it up as I went along.

"Nadia, I'm sorry." Suddenly I found the words forming easily in my mouth. Not something that happened often. "What I said – I didn't mean it, I was just angry."

"With me?"

"No! With the situation I was in. I… I was scared." It was a difficult thing for me to admit, and it hadn't been included in my mini-speech, but now I thought about it, I knew it was true. "Scared that I'd be blind for the rest of my life. But I took out my anger on you, and I shouldn't have, and I'm sorry."

I waited nervously to see what her reply would be.

"Did your sister tell you to say that? She's the one who phoned me."

I winced, wondering what Katie had said.

"She came in when I was having trouble phoning you and took charge, but no, she didn't tell me what to say," I replied, hoping she would presume that the 'trouble' I had was to do with my sight. No such luck.

"Having trouble?"

"Uh… my courage… uh… gave up on me."

"Oh." She sounded surprised. "Um… how did the operation go?"

This time I was surprised, at the quick change of topic.

"Is that it?"

"Excuse me?"

"Me yelling at you. I say sorry and you just… forget about it?"

"Well… you apologised. And I yelled back, when I knew it wasn't really me you were angry at. Sorry about that. So, how was your operation?"

I smiled, completely content for the first time in weeks.

"It went well."

* * *

**Next chapter: Nadia helps Doyle cope when he is released from hospital.**

**I haven't started writing the next chapter yet, but I'll try and post it as soon as possible. Thanks to all my reviewers so far, please increase that number at the top saying 'Reviews'. Thanks!**


	5. Astray

**Sorry it's been a while, but I had another very busy week. I've skim-read most of this chapter in an attempt at editing, but tell me if you see any major typos. Hope you enjoy the chapter, and thanks again to all my wonderful reviewers!**

**There is a hidden tribute to my all-time favourite male 24 character in this chapter - see if you can find it!**

**Disclaimer: What a surprise! It's still not mine!**

Astray

"_You said it for my sake_

_That I would not lose my way_

_When I was astray"_ – Dead Wrong

* * *

This was it. I was going home. Unfortunately, Katie had been called back to Atlanta by a burglary at her home. I'd had to reassure her several times that I would be ok before she'd leave, but even then only after I'd promised to ring if there was any change or I needed help. 

Instead of Katie, Nadia would be the one accompanying me, so long as we managed to get that far without arguing. Over the last few days, we had got along very well and got to know each other a lot better.

That was where I was know, being helped by Nadia into her car. The bandages couldn't come off for another few days, and Nadia had also agreed to check that I was doing ok; completely blind in my own house. I had come to know my hospital room extremely well, but it would be interesting to find out how well I could get around 1340 St. Anthony Boulevard.

We passed the time talking about anything that came to mind, avoiding the more serious topics such as CTU and the still unknown outcome of my operation. As I felt the car roll to a final stop, I began to grow nervous. It had been almost a month since I had been home. What would it look like? Unkempt? Abandoned? Almost certainly, it would look out of place from the other houses with their perfect appearances. What would Nadia think of it? Suddenly, I yearned to be able to see.

_Wait a second, what's happening to me? What does it matter if Nadia doesn't like it? It's MY house, and I can do what I want with it!_

The thought didn't ease my fears in the slightest and I suppressed it quickly, before my subconscious could channel it into a snide comment.

"Mike? Do you want to get home or not?" Nadia asked in an amused voice.

I came out of my reverie and started when I realised the car door was open and she was standing there, waiting for me to undo my seatbelt.

"Sorry," I muttered, letting her help me out of the car. As soon as I felt my feet touching the gravel path leading up to the front of my house, I felt at home. A grin began to spread across my face, which disappeared a moment later when I tripped.

"Son of a – "

"Sorry, I'll move it."

I heard a scraping noise then she was back at my side.

"What the hell was that?" I demanded to know.

"A skateboard. It was in the shadows so I didn't see it."

"Idiot," I murmured under my breath.

"I'm sorry."

"No, not you. The kid next door. Riley Benson. 10 years old, and always leaving his skateboard where anyone can trip over it."

We reached the front door without further event and I fumbled for the key that was usually so easy to find. I felt myself growing frustrated again. The next few days were not going to be fun.

Once inside, more problems began to arise almost immediately. When reaching for the light switch – a habit I've had as long as I can remember when walking into a room – I realised that I no longer needed to do so. Taking my coat off and hanging it on the peg next to the door had suddenly become a difficult task. Then I heard the pattering of feet and a big, furry thing bowled into me, knocking me over.

"Jerry, get off!" I yelled at my pet of three years, to no avail. The massive, black Labrador was overjoyed to see me again, and even more overjoyed that, for once, he had succeeded in his quest to make me join him on the floor. He demonstrated his feelings by proceeding in an attempt to lick me to death; two giant front paws on my chest holding me down.

To my great relief, Nadia quickly pulled him off me, although I suspect with some difficulty, and managed to shut him in the kitchen.

"I didn't know you had a dog," Nadia observed, pulling me to my feet.

"Yes," I sighed. "Jeremy. I've been paying Riley's older sister, Kathleen, to look after him. She must have brought him back earlier."

"I love dogs, you could've asked me."

I hesitated before answering truthfully.

"I didn't want to make you feel like you had to do something just because you felt sorry for me. Besides, Kathy's on her summer holidays at the moment and she wants to be a vet."

Turning, I realised that I didn't know what to do with myself. After my brief encounter with the floor, I had lost all sense of direction, and now had no idea where anything was. More frustration swelled up as I took a few steps and almost tripped again.

"Dammit!" I let rip without meaning to.

"Mike!" Nadia said firmly, as if scolding a naughty child.

I felt her cool hands on my forearms as she backed me into a chair and made me sit.

"Listen to me," I was ordered. "I have no idea how hard this must be for you, but you can't expect to just come home and everything will be fine. I'll help you, but you've got to help yourself as well. Focus on the good things, not the bad. You're going to get through this."

I paused. "Thank you."

* * *

I waited in darkness. They slowly unwound the tight bandage that had been part of my life for the last month. They hoped. I hoped. Clutching my hand for dear life, Nadia hoped. I still hadn't worked out what I was going to do if the operation failed. Despite Nadia's recent pep talk, I couldn't help but think the worst. 

As the last roll of dressing came off, I blinked and looked around. The first thing I saw was Nadia's expectant face.

* * *

**Next time: Mike has a reflective moment and compares himself to Milo.**

**Review! Tell me if you found the tribute!**


	6. Maybe

**Hey, I'm halfway through! This is another quite short chapter, but the idea's been in my head since before the idea for this story. Well done to , who found the hidden tribute - 'St Anthony Boulevard' - Tony. Such a shame he's dead. I was just thinking of a street name and it popped into my head.**

**I go to Italy on Friday! Yay for me! Unfortunately, this is bad for you lot, as I will be unable to update for the next two weeks. However, I will be sure to write lots and post it all as soon as I can when I get back (although I'll probably have to do overtime at work for the break). Once I've earned enough, I'll be buying myself a laptop, so by the end of the summer holidays I'll be updating even quicker than I already am! Anyway, enough rambling, and on with the story!**

**Disclaimer: Haven't you got the message yet? IT'S NOT MINE!**

Maybe

"_Maybe you want her maybe you need her_

_Maybe you started to compare to someone not there"_ – All at once

* * *

Well, I could see again. Not perfectly – going back to field ops was out – but well enough that I could return to a relatively normal life. I relished every day. Cooking meals to myself, walking Jeremy, yelling at Riley about his skateboard…

Only, I couldn't stop thinking about Nadia. Upon seeing her face again, I couldn't help but think of how beautiful she looked. Now my mind would keep wandering back to the same topic.

Maybe what Katie had said was true. Maybe I did like her. Goodness knows she had helped me enough to warrant being receptive to at least the idea of friendship. But more than that? After having watched CTU, especially the fieldwork aspect, come between or break up so many relationships, including one of my own, I had vowed not to get involved with anyone, for their sake. Inter-office relationships had been a no-no from the start. Just look at Milo and Nadia.

That was the other problem. Milo. It had been obvious to everyone at CTU-LA that he and I didn't get along. We never had. However, although he'd never known it, I had respected, even envied him. He was completely loyal to his friends, as demonstrated by his reaction to some of my actions – threatening Morris and accusing Nadia. I, on the other hand, had been betrayed several times, meaning I had no qualms about thinking the worst of people.

Milo had never had any trouble communicating his feelings, either. He'd made it clear to Nadia that he'd wanted them to be an item. When she'd tried to shy away from him, after my interrogation of her, he'd persisted, and ended up kissing her. I'd heard a couple of analysts discussing it before I left for my last field op, although I didn't know it at the time. Lucky devil. Yes, I most definitely liked her.

But what chance did I have? Not only did I accuse her of being a terrorist, interrogate her viciously, insult her relationship with Milo and push her away when she tried to help me, but she was currently mourning a man who'd loved and died for her. How could I measure up to that?

The phone rang, jerking me back to reality. I was sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at an '80s sci-fi film showing on the TV. Jeremy was curled up at my feet, his paws twitching as he dreamed.

Turning the TV off and reaching for the phone on the table next to me, I checked the caller ID. It was Nadia.

"Hello."

"Mike, hi." Her voice sounded slightly muted.

"Nadia. How are you?"

"Uh, I'm ok. You?"

"Great."

"Um… I just thought you might want to know…"

She faltered.

"What is it?" I prompted.

"It's Milo's memorial service on Saturday."

Now I knew why she didn't sound herself.

"Where is it?"

"You don't have to – "

"I'm coming. Where? What time?"

"10 am. Lincoln Park."

"I'll pick you up at half 9."

"Mike, I know you didn't get along – "

"He died to save your life. I'm thankful to him for that."

There was silence on the other end of the phone, and I wondered if I'd said too much.

"Thank you."

"See you Saturday?" I checked.

"Sure. Bye."

"Bye."

I put the phone down and sat still for a moment before getting up to make some coffee, a decision made. Just because there was no chance, it didn't mean I wouldn't try.

* * *

**Next time: Milo's memorial service**

**Hope you liked it! Eventually I might get around to explaining all the little hints about Doyle's past (there might be a space for it in chapter 10), but since I can't explain it to myself yet, I just have a vague idea, it won't be anytime soon.**

**Now REVIEW! PLEASE! I want to come home from Italy and find a massive load of emails entitled 'Review Alert' please! In the words of Apu (from The Simpsons, for anyone who doesn't watch it):**

**"Thank you, come again!"**


	7. Trying To Forget

**Hey, I'm back! Italy was great, a nice escape from all the floods we're getting at the moment. Luckily, our house is fine, but I know of some people who've been affected by them (in a very bad way). I'm afraid I only wrote one chapter on holiday, as I was busy visitng places, reading the new Harry Potter (although that didn't take particularly long), working on a HP fanfic and other stuff. Hope you'll enjoy this, and it was worth waiting for!**

**This chapter's lyrics could be about either Nadia or Mike, whichever you think fits best.**

**Disclaimer: I don't know about shooting stars, but my wishes don't seem to come true, or I wouldn't still be writing these horrible things. Not mine.**

Trying to Forget

"_Something is scratching its way out_

_something you want to forget about" _– Little House

* * *

The ride to Milo's memorial was done in silence. I had picked Nadia up at half nine, as promised, but had refrained from commenting on how nice she looked. I wasn't disrespectful enough to start my efforts on the day of Milo's memorial. 

As we arrived, I saw other people from CTU that I hadn't seen since before the failed field op. – Chloe, Morris, Bill… even Jack had emerged from his new life in New York to pay his respects. Apparently he'd worked with Milo years ago, before the rest of us knew either of them.

Then there were my old colleagues from Denver who'd travelled down for the service. I tried to avoid eye contact with them. They knew and would, unintentionally or on purpose, remind me of the past I was trying to leave behind.

The service passed relatively quickly. Several people, including Nadia and Milo's brother, Stuart, stood up to speak about him.

"That was great," I whispered to Nadia as she sat down, wiping her eyes.

She gave me a watery smile and turned her attention back to the service. Before I knew it, it was all over.

Nadia was engaged in conversation with Stuart when Chloe approached.

"Uh… hi," she started awkwardly. "Um, I just wanted to say, you know, sorry, about your eyes."

"It's fine now. The operation brought most of my sight back."

"But still, you'll never be able to work in field ops again, and that was the job you loved."

Despite being so blunt, Chloe really was very insightful, I thought to myself. This was exemplified even more by what she said next.

"Anyway, I'm surprised you're even here."

"Why?"

She stared at me patronisingly. "Milo liked Nadia. He died, and now you like her too. That must be kind of awkward."

"Uh…" I had no reply to that without lying outright, which was something I tried to avoid. Instead, I made my exit. "I'll see you around, Chloe."

She nodded smugly and returned to Morris.

The next person to advance on me was a woman I had desperately tried to avoid.

"Michael Doyle!" she barked out as I attempted to escape yet again. Several people looked around, startled at hearing me addressed like that, before going back to their conversations. I braced myself, and turned back.

Annabell Hawthorn was an imposing woman – tall, with angular features and dark hair and eyes. Dressed in a smart, black dress, she was the last person I wanted to see.

"You've been avoiding me," she said. Her voice was sharp, brittle. I waited for her to say what she wanted to, so I could get away as soon as possible.

* * *

A short while later, Nadia and I were walking alone through the park. Most people had left already, and the only others around were some stragglers, a lady walking her dog and a group of teenagers skateboarding. 

"Who was that woman you were talking to?" Nadia asked finally. She had been silent for the most part, but I presumed that she was curious as to who could talk to me in the haughty tone Annabell had employed.

"Annabell Hawthorn. I used to work with her at Denver."

"Were you… close?"

_Why is she asking this?_ I wondered to myself. _Didn't she see me try and avoid the woman?_

I grimaced at the idea. "Hardly. She went to college with Milo."

Nadia fell silent again, apparently lost in thought, and I tried to forget the memories that had recently resurfaced from my time in Denver.

"How are you doing?" I asked as we sat down on one of the few benches not in the line of direct sunlight or a misplaced sprinkler.

"I thought… I thought I'd get over it." Her voice cracked. "Every day, walking past where he died, knowing it should have been me… it's so hard. Going through all the paperwork about it, hiring someone to take his place, everything reminds me of him. And then, when I'm around you, or just happy, I'll suddenly remember and feel guilty. I just want to forget, and have everything go back to normal."

My arm was around her by this point. I hadn't missed the "around you, or just happy", but once again didn't think it prudent to mention this.

"It'll get better," I reassured her. "I told you about my step-brother dying. I have to live with the knowledge that the last thing I said to him was something along the lines of, 'I wish you'd never been born'. I didn't mean it. He knew I didn't mean it. But it still took a while to realise that 'I should have's don't do anything except make you feel more guilty."

I was talking from the heart now; opening up as I rarely did. "You're strong. You'll pull through. And I bet you'll do it without getting drunk and going joyriding."

Nadia stared at me incredulously.

"Please don't tell anyone," I begged. "My mum would kill me if she ever found out."

I pulled up outside Nadia's home at around 3 pm. We had had a late lunch in a café near Lincoln Park before getting back in the car. Nadia paused, having undone her seatbelt.

"Mike," she began hesitatingly. "Thank you. I keep trying to look out for you, but it always seems to end up the other way around. I don't know what I'd do without you. So – "

She leaned across the car and kissed me softly on the lips. I froze, completely shocked.

" – thank you," she finished. She got out of the car and let herself into her bungalow.

I sat without moving for several minutes, before revving up the car.

* * *

**Next time:** **Mike recovers some of his courage and asks out Nadia.**

**Hope you liked it, and I hope I did Chloe justice. She's a great character to write about! Also, tell me if you think any of the characters start getting too OOC - I haven't seen 24 in a while so it's a possibility. In regards to this sentence:**

**"**one of the few benches not in the line of direct sunlight or a misplaced sprinkler**"**

**No kidding. In Italy, I came across a park where some idiot had put rotating sprinklers behind half the benches. Anyway, the normal request: REVIEWS PLEASE!**


	8. Everything I Never Knew

**Sorry for the wait, but I had a minor case of writer's block.Just be happy that it hasn't hit as often as it usually does! I'm not too sure about this chapter, but I'll leave you to decide on how it compares to the other ones. Also, I'm going to Wales for a few days, and then I have to work, and then I have to get my GCSE results! trembles So, it could be a while before another update. I'll try and get one ready for you.**

**Disclaimer: Is anyone else bored of these yet? Not mine - except Gemma and Annabell. Yay, something belongs to me!**

Everything I Never Knew

"_She is everything I need that I never knew I wanted_

_She is everything I want that I never knew I needed"_ – She Is

* * *

I'd done it. Finally, I'd produced the courage that usually evaporated around Nadia, but which was needed to ask her out. And she'd said yes. 

We were walking together into a Thai restaurant I'd been to several times before, which I knew served excellent food. Nadia looked beautiful in a stunning black dress.

As the waiter left with our orders, I smiled nervously at Nadia. I wasn't so good at the whole small-talk thing. She smiled back without hesitation.

"So, um… how are things at CTU?" I began.

"Better now we have more people working there again. Do you have any ideas on what to do next?"

I shook my head miserably. "I've only ever wanted to be in field ops, apart from when I was about five and I wanted to be a Thunderbird, or something like that. I'd prefer to come back to CTU-LA, but it sounds as though you've filled all the positions."

"Not exactly."

I narrowed my eyes at her suspiciously.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, our Recruiting Officer is transferring to Phoenix in a few weeks and… well… I wondered if you'd like the job. It wouldn't be the same as field ops," she rushed on, "but you'd be in charge of training the new recruits, and it'd be in CTU-LA."

I was surprised, to say the least.

"Wow, Nadia. Are you sure? I mean, I've never done teaching before."

"You'll do fine. You've got the experience needed."

I grinned happily. "Thanks, that'd be great."

"Alright, we'll get the paperwork sorted in a few days."

As the conversation continued, I found my mind drifting back to what Annabell had said at Milo's memorial service.

_"Who's that woman you're with?" she demanded to know._

"_Nice to see you too, Anna."_

"_Don't play games with me, Michael. Answer the question."_

_I sighed. There was no point in prolonging the inevitable. "Nadia Yassir. Head of CTU-LA."_

"_Well, I hope you treat her better than that Gemma girl."_

_I scowled furiously. _

"_What was I supposed to do? Let her off because she was my girlfriend?" I whispered angrily._

"_You could have trusted her. She loved you."_

"_She betrayed me."_

"_Well, good luck to Nadia. She's going to need it where you're concerned._

And now I was determined to prove Annabell wrong. I had a feeling that her words were actually what had prompted me to take action and ask out Nadia.

But there would always be Gemma in the back of my mind. She'd completely destroyed my faith in relationships, and it was only now that I was recovering. Distancing myself from people so that I didn't get hurt was half the reason for my usual, grumpy and sarcastic attitude, and it was all because of her. Even though Nadia was nothing like Gemma, there was always that subconscious worry.

I'd thought Gemma was the perfect woman for me. Around her I was completely self-assured. On the other hand, around Nadia I was constantly worried, even if I didn't show it. Everything Gemma and I did had been carefully planned and assessed. I got the feeling that anything Nadia and I did would be impetuous and risky. Gemma hadn't had anything to do with CTU (or so I thought) – she'd been a consultant at a private ICT firm. Nadia was, more or less, my new boss.

Nadia seemed to be the opposite of everything I ever thought that I wanted or needed in a partner. And yet, I'd never felt this strongly for anyone, even Gemma. It made no sense, but I didn't care.

* * *

As I pulled up outside Nadia's bungalow, my nervousness increased tenfold. While we had both had a great time, we hadn't really done any more than act as friends, apart from a few choice moments. Now I wanted to kiss her, but I wasn't sure if this would be seen as too presumptuous, and I didn't want to ruin what we already had. 

I helped her out of the car, my mind still running amok, and she smiled at me.

"Thanks."

When we reached the doorway and she looked up at me, the moon- and starlight caught in her eyes. She looked so beautiful as she thanked me for a wonderful evening.

I switched off my brain and kissed her. She replied almost instantly. It seemed that she agreed with my decision.

* * *

**Next time: Doyle is having trouble with his new job.**

**By the way, can anyone think of a better summary, because I'm having a complete mental block where that's concerned. Also, what do people think of the title?**

**Well, does anyone else think other chapters are better, or am I just being over-critical? Please let me know IN A REVIEW!!! Gracias :-)**


	9. The Only One

**I know it's short, I know it's been a while, and I'm sorry. I also lied (albeit accidentaly) when I said you'd find out about Annabell and Gemma this chapter. I got confused. That's next chapter. Sorry!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. The only payment I get for this is reviews (hint, hint)**

The Only One

"_When I'm losing my control, the city spins around,_

_you're the only one who knows, you slow it down"_ – Look After You

* * *

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

"Mike."

_BANG!_

"Mike, look at me."

_BANG! BANG!_

She put a hand on my arm and I dropped the gun immediately. I didn't want to end up shooting her out of instinct. I glanced down the firing range and sighed upon seeing the moving targets I'd been firing at. I hadn't hit the centre once, and some of my shots had missed completely.

"Mike, what is it?"

I finally turned to look at her. She had a worried expression on her face, although she was trying to hide it.

"Nothing," I muttered gruffly.

"Mike!" Nadia snapped. In the past few months of going out with her, I had learnt that she could be extremely stubborn when she wanted to be. Unfortunately, having let her see through my strong, sarcastic façade, she was one of the only ones who could tell straight away if I was lying. My outer persona no longer worked on her.

I sighed. Checking that there was no-one else in the room, I slouched down onto a bench at the back. Nadia sat beside me.

"Is it the job?" she asked. I was surprised. I knew she could see through me, but I hadn't realised she was quite so insightful.

"More the recruits than the actual jobs. You know they finished the course today?"

She nodded. "We're employing a couple of them."

"Well, it's just… hard. Seeing them walk out, knowing that they're all going into field ops when I've got to stay. I've got to wait here for the next bunch of kids who _me _to teach them what _I_ want to be doing. And not just that. Knowing that within a year at the most, some of them will be dead, or injured like I am. That's hard too. However well I train them, bad luck or human error will find them eventually.

"Do you want to resign?" she asked quietly.

"What?" The thought hadn't even crossed my mind. "No! I like my job. I just… need to get rid of my frustration every once in a while." I motioned at the firing range.

We were both silent, relaxed in the other's company.

"They respect you, Mike," Nadia said after a few minutes. "I've heard them talking. They all want to be like you."

"What – half-blind in one eye because of a stupid mistake?"

"So dedicated that you refuse to give up your own training. They've seen you, down here in your breaks; whenever you get a chance. _I've _seen you."

"Well why aren't I getting any better?" I scowled. It was true, I probably was spending more time practicing than was healthy. But I hadn't achieved any aspect of my former accuracy. It took a moment for me to realise that Nadia was staring at me.

"Not getting any better?" she exclaimed incredulously. "Mike, when you first picked up a gun after the operation, you could hardly hit a thing. Now you're shooting moving targets, and hitting still ones accurately. If that's not improving, then I don't know what is."

"But I can't shoot like I used to – "

"Of course you can't! What did you expect? You were nearly blinded for life! Now stop beating yourself up about it. You'll need to set up interviews for the next lot of recruits in a few days," she finished, probably with what she'd originally come down to say.

She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and left.

I got up and walked back over to the firing range, picking up the gun and reloading it as I did. I concentrated, focussing on what Nadia had said. I squeezed the trigger gently.

_BANG!_

It had hit the centre. I felt a wave of victory wash over me. How was it that Nadia could make me believe in myself so entirely?

* * *

**So, there's the next chapter. I'm hoping to finish this in the next fortnight, before I go back to school (results tomorrow!) However, there's a few questions I'd like to ask my american reviewers (as I presume at least some of you live in the US) for another 24 story I've been writing for ages about Tony and Michelle, but haven't published yet.**

**Do you say:**

**1. movie or film?**

**2. university or college?**

**Thanks. Also, if any of you notice anything that's english, not american (but not spelling, please, just the content) please let me know. Now, for reviews!**


	10. Fight the Past

**Well, it's been a while, but here's the next chapter. I think I'm going to fail my target of finishing this story before I go back to school - only four days left :c( - but I've half-written the next chapter, so it shouldn't be that long until an update. Only two chapters left! I've been working quite a bit, but that's good for you because I'm buying myself a laptop! So I'll be able to update even quicker!**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine.**

Fight the Past

"_You made up your mind to leave it all behind_

_now you're forced to fight it out_

_You fall away from your past_

_But it's following you"_ – Fall Away

* * *

It was another day from hell. Terrorists were trying to blow up Los Angeles, and I was stuck in my office, marking papers. I was too blind for fieldwork, and had never been technical minded enough to understand CTU's complex computer system. I'd already heard that one of my recruits whom Nadia had employed was dead, killed by friendly fire. 

"Mr Doyle?"

I looked up to see a field ops assistant standing in my doorway.

"Yes?" I snapped.

"Agent Hawley would appreciate your input on field operations planning," the messenger said stiffly. He was young, and apparently nervous at speaking to me – a grim man with half an eye missing and a penchant for sarcastic comments.

I got up and motioned for him to lead the way. Owen Hawley was the new director of field ops and not a man I liked particularly, probably for that very reason. It must be getting very bad if they were coming to me for advice.

It turned out that the situation wasn't very good at all, and even I couldn't blame Owen for calling upon extra assistance. A woman with previous experience of the terrorists was being brought in from a local prison and I was working on a contingency plan with Owen, in case the current mission – to capture several of the ringleaders – failed.

I was so preoccupied that I didn't notice the prisoner being brought in until Nadia came over to tell us that she was ready for interrogation.

"Why was she in prison?" I asked as the three of us headed to where the woman was being held.

"Got close to people, mainly government officials, and then sold information onto the highest bidder."

It reminded me ominously of someone else I knew, but I pushed the thought to the back of my mind. Besides, the last I heard she was in a Denver prison, not an LA one.

So, walking into the observation room, I was almost entirely unprepared to see my ex-girlfriend staring at me through all the cameras.

"Mike? Are you ok?" Nadia asked upon noticing my expression.

"Yeah. Fine."

If they didn't already know and Owen could get the information out of her, there was no reason to enlighten them about my past with Gemma Krowsky.

* * *

Owen was scowling as he re-entered the observation room; an expression mirrored by me. 

"Get the president on the phone," he ordered.

"Wait! You're not seriously going to give her a pardon?" I asked incredulously.

"What choice do we have? We do in every other case like this," Nadia reminded me.

I shook my head in denial.

"No. Let me try."

"What difference will that make?"

"I… came across her. Back in Denver. She knows me."

Owen shrugged. "It's worth a shot."

Gemma was visibly shocked when I entered. Hardly surprising – she'd last seen me two years ago when she was led out of CTU-Denver in handcuffs, begging me pitifully for forgiveness. I grimly surveyed her as she was now.

"M-Mike?" she stuttered.

I said nothing.

"W-what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing. What happened to Denver prison. Not comfy enough for you?"

"I-I was transferred. P-please, make sure I get th-that pardon."

"And why would I do that?"

"I c-can't survive in p-prison, Mike. You know h-how shy I am, and everyone's so strong and t-tough in there – "

"I don't know anything about you anymore. Everything you ever told me was a lie. You betrayed me," I continued, forgetting the presence of Nadia and Owen in the next room, watching me, "and there's no way in hell I'm going to let you walk free after that. So, here's how it is. You're going to tell me everything I want to know, unless you want a repeat of Denver."

She shrank back in the chair she was shackled to.

"M-Mike, please – "

"Shut up!" I roared. "Who is Alexander Marshall?"

"The-the pardon – "

Without warning I reached out and grabbed her by the neck, as I had done to Nadia all those months ago.

"No games with me, Gemma. Answer, or things are going to get very unpleasant."

"N-no, I want a pardon."

I was surprised at her resolve – she must really hate prison life – but didn't show it. Instead, I tightened my grip. She began to choke.

"M-Mike," she managed to gasp out. "I-I'm sorry… please"

"Sorry?" I replied scathingly. "Well, that makes it all better. I loved you, and you pretended to love me back, and the whole time you were using me."

"I… did… l-love you. I-I still do…"

"Well, tough. 'Cause you are going to be useful to us for once in miserable life, and then you're going back to being locked up.

She said nothing this time.

"Alexander Marshall – who is he?"

Again, she didn't reply. That was when I realised her eyes were closed and her breathing was infrequent and shallow.

"Agent Doyle, stand down!" I heard Owen repeat through the speakers as security guards pulled my hand away from her neck. "Someone get a medic!" he yelled, bursting into the room.

Nadia stared at me from the doorway. She looked confused… and scared.

* * *

**Next chapter: Nadia confronts Doyle about his past.**

**Yes, Angry Doyle had a reappearance in this chapter - hope he wasn't too bad. The full explanation of Doyle's past will come next time. **

**Review please! Last chapter will list and be dedicated to all reviewers! Thanks for the movie/college advice - it's for another story I'm writing. As 24 is based in the US, I would prefer to use the correct terminology.**


	11. Trust

**I have my laptop! Please excuse the typos in this - I'm still getting used to the keyboard. The chapter's short (again), but I like it. I'm starting 6th form tomorrow, so I'm not sure when you'll get the next update, but I have started to write it and type it up.**

**I realised the other day that I healed Doyle too much and too little at the same time. He can drive a car, but he can only see out of one eye. Whoops. However, to fix this I would need to change quite a bit, including some of the plot details, so just suspend your sense of reality for one more chapter. Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: I own a laptop, lots of clothes, a mobile, a bed (very useful), many DVDs, not so many videos (about three? the rest have been chucked out)... but not 24.**

Trust

_"You can trust me_

_trust__ nobody"_ – Trust Me

* * *

I was back in my office, waiting to discover if I had ruined it all – my job, the investigation, hundreds of innocent lives and, most importantly to me, my relationship with Nadia. I could go to prison for manslaughter, or even murder. Despite having no idea of whom or what I believed in, I prayed to anyone listening. 

I'd been sitting silently for at least an hour by the time Nadia appeared, closing the door behind her. I said nothing, just asked one question with my eyes. She understood at once.

"They resuscitated her. As soon as she came to, she told us what we needed. We have Marshall; Owen's questioning him now on the location of the other bombs."

I let out a sigh of relief without realising it.

"Mike."

I looked up.

"What happened? I remember Gemma's name now – it was in your file. She's the one you used excessive force on before, isn't she?"

There was no point in denying it. I nodded slowly. Explanation time.

"In Denver, a few years ago, I was going out with her. She told me that she worked at home for an IT company. We'd been together for almost two years when I discovered the truth. I overheard a phone conversation between her and a 'customer' – she'd been hacking into my files and selling information about CTU to whoever would pay the most. I reported her at once and she was arrested."

I looked her in the eye.

"Milo and Annabell didn't like this. They were both idealists. They thought I was being too presumptuous and should have trusted her, asked her about it myself. Turned out I was right. Then we had to bring her in for questioning, like today. I lost my temper and she ended up in hospital.

She said it was a mistake; that she'd actually fallen in love with me. But that didn't stop her selling the information. She could have stopped, found herself a new job. She cared more about the money than about what we had."

I knew Nadia could tell I was still hurting, but to be honest, I didn't care. I was tired of all the secrets. I was tired of not trusting people. For the past few years I had become accustomed to trusting nobody, frequently having to remind myself that trust meant hurt. Gemma had proven that to me. But I now knew that if there was one person I could trust, it was Nadia. So I gave her an ultimatum.

"Look, Nadia, these past few months have been amazing, being with you. But I want to know that we're going somewhere. And I want to be sure you know everything about me, so you don't get so far and then back out at the last second. I _want_ you to know that my ex-girlfriend is in prison, and that I've almost killed her on more than one occasion. I want you to know that I lose my temper, and that I'm sarcastic, and can have worse manners than Chloe at times. I'm about as far from perfect as you can get. I'm – "

"Mike?" Nadia interrupted.

"Yes?"

"You're about as close to perfect as I can live with. You're honest, sensitive and I can trust you. That's all I need. Although I may be sentencing you to some anger management courses, if you don't mind."

I was amazed, completely and utterly.

"I love you."

The words were tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them. Oops.

"Uh... I mean..."

"I love you too."

"Really?"

She smiled at me, radiating happiness.

"Really."

* * *

**Next time: Several years later... You're not getting any more hints out of me than that.**

**Review and make my day!**


	12. Union

**That's right, it's the epilogue! It's been a while in posting because I wanted to get this just right. It takes place about two years after chapter 11, and then 20 years later. This chapter is dedicated to: Tigerlily Brown, chipsnopotatoes, 24isthebest, Pinkjimmychoos, Cherazz22784, Shadowsakura321 and happyhooligan2001. Thanks for all the reviews! If it wasn't for you guys and your encouragement, I probably wouldn't have finished this story.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

Union

_"I'm staring at what was once a wall_

_Separating east and west_

_Now they meet amidst the broad daylight"_ – Hundred

* * *

"Mike?"

Someone was calling my name. I clutched to the memory of Nadia saying she loved me and squeezed my eyes together tighter.

"Mike!"

I stirred slowly, wondering who was disturbing my very nice dreams of me and Nadia. I inched my eyes open.

"What?" I murmured.

Owen Hawley was standing in front of me, dressed in a suit very similar to what I suddenly realised I was wearing.

"You fell asleep. You're going to be late if you don't hurry."

For a moment I was confused.

"Late for what?"

Owen stared at me incredulously.

"Wow, you really were in a world of your own. For your _wedding_you idiot!"

With a jolt I remembered. My wedding. Today. To Nadia. That would explain why I had been dreaming about all my ups and downs with her. I was suddenly wide awake.

"What's the time?"

"Ten thirty."

"It starts at eleven thirty!" I immediately panicked.

"Hence why I woke you up. Don't worry Mike, everything will be fine. Come on, we need to get going."

"Get going. Yes. Right."

In short order we were in the car, on our way. Owen was reading through a sheet of paper which I presumed was his speech. After the Gemma incident, I had dropped my tough exterior slightly, and had discovered that he wasn't actually that bad. Gradually we had become friends, although it was with trepidation that I asked him to be my Best Man at the wedding. He had accepted immediately, overjoyed at the honour.

Personally, I was beginning to get terrified. After asking Nadia to marry me just under three months ago, I had been caught up in a whirlwind of preparations, and it was only now, the day of the wedding, that I began to get nervous. Typical.

We approached the building slowly, stuck in a traffic jam. I climbed out of the taxi, noticing at once that the equivalent vehicle carrying Nadia wasn't here yet. I panicked. What if she didn't turn up? After all the troubles, the doubting and shouting, would I still lose everything?

"She'll be here," Owen reassured me before I even had time to voice my doubts. "Now stop worrying and get inside."

* * *

At eleven thirty on the dot, the audience stood as the bride began to walk up the aisle, accompanied by her father, Karif Yassir. Everyone was there – Nadia's sisters, Aisha and Rana, my own sister, Katie, was hanging onto Jeremy's lead and her daughter's hand. There was Jack, holding hands with a pregnant Audrey, Chloe, Morris and their 2-year-old son, Dominic. Even my parents were in the same room without arguing, despite sitting as far away from each other as was humanly possible.

But I only had eyes for Nadia. Dressed in that pure white dress all little girls dream of, she looked beautiful; even more so than usual. Her hair was curled and heaped around her shoulders, and on her left hand was the sparkling diamond engagement ring she had received three months ago. It was like a fairytale, but in real life; I was living it.

It was truly a miracle that this day was happening. After everything we had been through – the interrogation, Milo's death, the almost-permanent blinding, Gemma... The list of problems was endless, yet somehow, and neither of us were quite sure how, we had made it here.

And as she approached, smiling shyly at me and looking happier than I had ever seen her, I realised that I didn't need to find a religion to believe in. All I needed was right here, right now, walking up the aisle. I beamed back at her. After all, on an occasion like this, what is there to do but smile?

* * *

After several near-death experiences, including one memorable encounter on a family holiday to England, Nadia eventually resigned from CTU and took up a management job at Jack's finance company in New York. She took maternity leave twice, for the births of our three children – the twins, Hanna and Oliver, and Natalia. I continued to train the new CTU recruits in New York and later became the official adviser for field ops on the side, although I was never allowed to return to going out in the field myself.

20 years after we married, I was sitting in my office, looking through the applications for the year's new recruits, when I came across several names which I recognised. By this point, I looked over applications for all potential employees, then passed on my thoughts to Angie Donalds, the director of CTU-NY.

Dominic O'Brian, now 22, had just graduated from Harvard and wanted to be a medic at CTU. The boy was as clever as his parents and, despite taking a different route, had easily lived up to their reputations. Maddie Bauer, Jack's second daughter (who, incidentally, was currently going out with Dominic) wanted to transfer from her job in Jack's company and was looking for a position in network managing. Then I saw the name that shocked me the most. Oliver Doyle. Requests a position on the field ops training course.

He and Hanna had only graduated from high school a few months ago, and he had been very secretive about what he wanted to do. Hanna was going into journalism, and Natalia still had another three years at school, but I had never expected this. Despite my longing to return to my old job, I had never wanted any of my children to follow in my footsteps. It was dangerous, and he could easily get killed.

I knew I was being a hypocrite.

I paused, staring at the application form. Oliver knew it came through me. He knew I would have to approve it to let him onto the course. And if I did reject it, he would trust that I wasn't being biased, and choose another route. My eyes flickered between the two piles. Reject. Forward to Angie. A dilemma. Where should I put it?

It was at least ten minutes before I made a decision. I put my son's form into the pile which I knew was the right choice.

If Angie approved of my decisions – which she nearly always did – it would prove to be an interesting year. The next generation was beginning to take over.

* * *

**Hope you like the ending - I do! I may do a sequel to this concerning the family trip to England (I've been wanting to do a 24 story in England for a while now), but it won't be any time soon. I'm going to finish my Tony/Michelle oneshot first, and I'm currently working on a Harry Potter fanfic about an OC (Boa Macnair) and a rising new dark lord. If you're interested in any of this, please put me on author alert.**

**And, for the last time, PLEASE REVIEW:-D Thanks again to everyone.**


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